Like Me
by Mauwreentjj
Summary: While she was dying to hug him and hold him and tell him it was all over and everything was going to be okay – she also wanted to yell at him, and hit him, and scream at him, for leaving her, for making her worry – for making her believe he was dead.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

She's been watching him for hours, ever since it all ended that morning. She watched him hugging and holding hands with crying families and friends, telling them it was all over now, that it would be okay. And as she watched him, she wished she could hug him and hold his hand and tell him it was all over now and it would be okay. Because she could see in his eyes that he needed to be hugged, that he needed his hand to be held, and that he didn't believe a word of what he said.

He was currently sitting with Luna, just close enough for her to be able to see the pain in his eyes, and the bruises beneath them, close enough for her to realise that all he needed was some rest. And she thanked Merlin, because she knew Luna, and she knew Luna was smart enough to realise that too, and that she cared, and Luna would probably find a way to provide it for him.

And then Ginny could follow and – no. She couldn't follow him. Because, while she was dying to hug him and hold him and tell him it was all over and everything was going to be okay – she also wanted to yell at him, and hit him, and scream at him, for leaving her, for making her worry – for making her believe he was dead. And she realised it wasn't the right time. Not right now.

Just then, Luna exclaimed something, and Harry disappeared under his Cloak – she seemed to be the only one who noticed. A few seconds later, Ron and Hermione turned around and left the Great Hall, and Ginny knew that she just had to follow them and she would find Harry. She could demand an explanation, but she also knew that she wouldn't get one. Not today.

However, she couldn't just _stay_. Maybe she could just go, follow them. She could hold Harry, hug him and hold his hand. Her body longed to feel his, to feel his arms around her, and her arms around him. His sweet breath on her ear and neck, his fingers digging into her back. She longed to hear his voice, softly arguing with her, that there were still Death Eaters on the loose, that they had lost Remus and Tonks and Colin and- and- _Fred_.

Fred's name in her mind made her jump up. She could feel her family's burning, questioning, worrying eyes on her, so she mumbled something about needing to pee, and ran, no, stormed from the hall. She had already lost a brother. She didn't need to lose the man she loved too.

Halfway up to the Gryffindor tower, she bumped into Ron and Hermione.

"Harry?" She breathed the question, not daring to say the name out loud, just in case he was there too. Ron looked like he was about to say something, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Gryffindor tower. He needs food, and sleep." Ginny nodded, already continuing, when Ron's voice stopped her.

"Be nice. He's been through a lot." She paused, debating whether it was worth the fight. It wasn't, so all she replied was:

"So have I."

And she was running again, through the halls of the ruined castle, up stairs that were broken and had holes and no banisters left, like she had done so many times before, this year, only this time for an entirely different reason.

The portrait of the Fat Lady was blasted away, but she didn't stop to see if the portrait was alright. She headed up to the boys' dormitory, a place she had been quite often this year to confer with Neville, so she took the steps without even thinking, and burst through the door.

There he was, his eyes haunted, his ribs sticking out of his t-shirt. His hair was long and resembled more of a bird's nest than ever, and his mouth was drawn in a determined line as his trembling hand pointed his wand at her. She didn't even bother drawing hers.

"My name is Ginevra Molly Weasly, though everyone calls me Ginny. I am a part of Dumbledore's Army, and last year, we had a relationship, which you broke off because of you thought it would keep me safe, even though I love you. I love you because you're the most gorgeous, unselfish man I have ever met. I love you because you love treacle tart and tea, just like I do. I love you because you have this crazy hero-instinct and you're always running around trying to save people, even though they don't need saving or don't want to be saved because they LOVE you and it means being away from you." She stopped to take a deep breathe, and then whispered: "Like me."

There was a beat of silence, in which one would only hear the beat of two hearts, perfectly synchronized. Then Harry's wand clattered to the floor, and in two steps, they were kissing. His hands were gripping her back tightly, while hers were fisting his hair, and Ginny decided that last summer's kiss had _nothing_ on this. Last summer had been sweet and painful and desperate, while this was passionate, hungry, and soothing the emptiness she had felt inside of her since he had left. Last summer had been a goodbye kiss, while this was a wholenewbeginning-forevertogether kiss.

It was the need for oxygen that made them – although reluctantly – break apart.

"I love you," he said.

"I know," she replied.

A silence, and then, "I thought you were dead."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I love you too."

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><p><strong>AN So, I wrote this while I have two exams tomorrow. I'm awesome at avoiding studying, and anyway, it's hard to concentrate when there's a story stuck in your head.**

**This is one of the many ways I imagine Harry and Ginny getting back together. Hope you like it, let me know!**

**Xx**


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